


Secrets

by MrSpockify



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, but also screw skip westcott amiright, mention of self harm, nothing graphic, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:40:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSpockify/pseuds/MrSpockify
Summary: “I’m so angry,” he started. “Whenever I think about him I get so mad. What he did to me… It hurt, Mr. Stark. Has pain ever made you this angry?” Peter turned and saw Tony staring at him with an unreadable face. The only indication that he was listening, Peter noticed, was the redness in his eyes and the tears starting to build. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it makes me a bad person.”In which Peter saves a little boy by reliving his own past.Based on the old Spider-Man PSA about childhood sexual abuse.





	Secrets

Every night at around two in the morning, Spider-Man would return from his nightly patrol. On the weekends, instead of swinging back into his aunt’s apartment, he would head towards the Stark Tower, per Tony’s request (and Pepper’s insistence). On these nights, Tony would usually wait up for him and they’d chat idly about the night’s adventures before each headed off to bed.  


Tony was already carrying two mugs of tea into the living room when he caught sight of a red-and-blue clad figure lightly dropping onto the balcony. Spider-Man came in through the glass door and pulled off his mask, revealing the young-faced and bright-eyed Peter.  


“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter greeted, gratefully taking the hot mug and blowing gently at the steam.  


“What’s on tonight’s report, Spidey?” That was all it took to get Peter going, gesticulating wildly as he recounted the night’s events. A few thwarted robberies, a drunk man talked into taking a cab rather than driving, a lost dog returned to its owners… They were both about halfway through their tea when Peter suddenly stiffened, his mouth snapping into a tight, thin line.  


“Peter?” Tony leaned in worriedly. “Earth to Spider-Man, hey, what’s up?” Peter’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breath coming in short bursts. With shaking hands, he managed to set down his mug without spilling any tea. He grabbed his discarded mask and turned away.  


“I gotta go,” he replied, his voice far too grim for Tony’s comfort.  


“Where?” Asking was futile. Peter—no, Spider-Man—was out the door, jumping from the balcony and swinging away. Tony cursed under his breath and sat his mug down beside the other. He waited approximately 7.2 seconds before giving up and calling for his suit. Almost instantly, he was flying out the door and into the night, tracking the other hero.  


***  


Peter’s spidey sense had recognized it before he had heard it. Goosebumps had covered his whole body, and he had shivered with the deep sense of anguish that came with it.  


Now, his body ached with how hard he was pushing it. He shot his webs further than he ever had before, pulled his body forward with more force than he thought possible. His knees screamed in protest every time he slammed into a landing on top of a building. He didn’t care, though. He pushed through the pain and tried to move even faster.  


_“Leave me alone! Please!”  
_

__

His eyes stung, and Peter had to fight back tears so he could actually see where he was going. At this point, though, he was moving more on instinct than anything else. He could _feel _where he needed to go.  
__

____

_“I don’t want to do anything like that!” _  
__

____

He needed to calm down before he got there. Logically, he knew that. He knew Spider-Man couldn’t smash through a window and choke the life out of someone, as much as his body was telling him to do it. He fought to control his ragged breathing, pushing down the primal, vicious anger that had started to build like a white heat in his core.  


He was getting closer to the location. He could hear the other voice now. It didn’t calm him down.  


_“Tonight is our little secret.” _  
__

____

Peter slammed against the brick building, hard. Quickly, and rather clumsily, he scaled the wall until he found the right window. With a great show of self-restraint, he opened the window instead of crashing through, and jumped into the apartment.  


A little boy yelled in surprise, clearly not expecting to suddenly find a superhero in his room.  


And this was definitely the little boy’s room, Peter thought, glancing around. A box of toy trucks lay on its side, an unmade bed with crumpled bedsheets caught his eye, and—Peter’s fury caught in his throat—a Spider-Man nightlight was tucked in one corner.  


The other occupant, a young woman, probably a teenager, moved as if to leave. Peter fought the urge to web her to the wall. To slam her face into the floor. To scream at her until his throat was raw. Instead, he held his ground, clenched fists shaking, and let her go.  


Vaguely he was aware of mechanical sounds behind him, and he knew Mr. Stark had followed him here. Without turning, he could tell Iron Man was hovering just outside the window, listening in and on standby in case he was needed.  


Peter took a deep breath and crouched down. He gave a small wave to the kid.  


“You’re Spider-Man!”  


“Yeah,” Peter replied, proud at how even he had kept his voice. He could do this. “What’s your name?”  


“Andy.”  


“Nice to meet you, Andy. Mind if I ask you a few questions?” The little boy shook his head, looking very small. God, this kid couldn’t be more than ten years old. “Tell me, Andy, who was that girl? What was she doing here?”  


“Oh, that was Judy. My mom and dad hired her to watch me tonight. They’re at a party.” Andy looked at his shoes and scuffed the carpet.  


“Andy, I know something happened here tonight.” The kid looked up with big, brown eyes. There was fear there, and Peter felt his throat clench. “You can tell me. Don’t be afraid, I’m your friend.”  


“She said it was a secret,” Andy protested, crossing his arms and looking away. “She said she’d hurt me if I told.”  


“It sounds like she’ll keep hurting you more if you don’t tell.” A long bout of silence hung in the air, but Peter just waited patiently. After a while, the little boy nodded.  


“I asked Judy if we could watch Star Wars. She always lets me stay up late and watch TV. She started tickling me, and she said we could watch it, but first…” He trailed off, and Peter gave him a reassuring nod to keep going. “But first she wanted me to take off all my clothes. I didn’t… I didn’t want to. I tried to go to bed. But she wouldn’t let me, and she started touching me.” Andy stopped there and looked up. “Did I do something wrong?”  


“Don’t even think that!” Peter replied, probably a little too forcefully. He brought his voice back down and did his best to be soothing. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She did. You did the right thing by telling me.”  


“I’m scared, Spider-Man.” The kid looked so tiny, and he hid his face in his hands.  


“That’s ok. It’s ok to be scared,” Peter said. He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs. “You know, this reminds me of something that happened a long time ago.” He waited for Andy to look up. The kid thought a moment, then sat down, too, right across from Spider-Man.  


“What is it?”  


“There was a boy, just like you, only he lived with his aunt and uncle. The boy wanted to make his aunt and uncle happy, so he spent all his time studying. He didn’t have a lot of time to have fun and make friends. He spent most of his time alone in the library. But one day, someone came up to join him.”  


_“Hey, kid. You’ve always got your head stuck in a book, huh Einstein? I’m Steven, but my friends call me Skip.”  
_

__

_“Oh, uh… hi, Skip.”  
_

__

“They became really good friends, and they spent a lot of time together. Skip lived alone with his mom, so when she was away at work, the two had the whole place to themselves. Usually, they’d just spend the time talking. But one day, Skip had something else in mind.”  


_“Hey, Einstein, I have something I want to show you. Check out these magazines. Cool, right?” _  
__

____

“The boy was uncomfortable with the things he saw in the magazine, but he didn’t say anything. Skip kept making him look, and after a while he wanted to play a game. He wanted them to touch each other like in the magazine. The boy was too afraid to leave.”  


_“Come on, Einstein, doesn’t this feel good? Mm, you’re such a good boy.” _  
__

____

“A few days later, the boy’s aunt and uncle could tell something was wrong. They asked and asked, and after a while the boy finally got the courage to tell them what happened. He did the right thing and got help, just like you, Andy. That makes you so brave. You know how I know that?” Andy shook his head, entranced with the story. “Because that boy was me. You’re as brave as Spider-Man, kid.”  


Andy’s eyes lit up, and he seemed to relax a little.  


“Do you think you can be really brave again and talk to your mom and dad about this?” Peter held his hand out.  


“Yeah, I think so.” Andy took his hand, and Peter led them into another room.  


“Alright, great! Let’s give them a call, huh?” In the background, Peter could hear the sound of metal adjusting, followed by a familiar whoosh growing more and more distant. He grabbed a phone off a receiver and nodded down at the kid beside him, feeling better than he had in a while.  


***  


A couple hours later, Peter landed on the balcony of the Stark tower for the second time that night. Inside, he saw Tony sitting alone on a long couch, hands woven together and head down. Two abandoned mugs sat on the coffee table.  


Peter walked up, slowly and tentatively taking a seat beside him. Pulling off his mask left him feeling more vulnerable than usual.  


“Hey Mr. Stark,” he mumbled. He could feel his hands start to sweat under his suit. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything back there. His judgement had been clouded, he knew that. He had let his own emotions get in the way. That wasn’t something an Avenger would let happen.  


“How old were you?” Tony nearly whispered, still staring intently at his hands. Peter realized they were shaking ever so slightly.  


“Eight,” he replied.  


“How old was _he _?” Peter turned away and sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this.  
__

____

“It doesn’t matter, it was a long—”  


“Peter, how old was he?” Tony’s voice was firm, but he was clearly trying to hold back some emotion. Peter couldn’t tell if it was sadness or anger, and he wasn’t quite sure who it was aimed at.  


He was quiet a moment, then decided to give in. “Sixteen.”  


“God, kid, I’m—” Tony rubbed his hands over his face. He looked so tired. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”  


“Not your fault. Not anyone’s fault.” Well, except Skip, Peter thought.  


They sat in silence, each deep in thought. Peter tried not to think about how he used to feel. How every day for almost two years phantom touches followed him everywhere. Hands crawled over his body, under his clothes, under his skin, too deep for any amount of scrubbing or scratching to help. How, even after he saw a therapist—God, that had been such an expense on his aunt and uncle—he was afraid of being alone. How he tried so goddamn hard to feel better and _be _better but no matter what he still woke up screaming at night. How the scars on his thighs were a permanent reminder of the brief period in time where he thought maybe that would work. It hadn’t, and it had only upset May even more.  
__

____

He had gotten better, of course. Time made it better. Skip moving away and never coming back made it better. Even now, Spider-Man and Mr. Stark and even Happy made it all better.  


But he would never be perfectly okay, and that thought was what made Peter the angriest. The fact that his whole life was different, all because Skip wanted to play a game. All because he had been taken advantage of as a stupid, lonely child.  


“Pete, you alright?” Tony’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Peter hadn’t realized he was squeezing his mask in his fists like he wanted it to disappear. He set the mask on the coffee table and forced his body to relax back into the couch.  


“Yeah, I’m just thinking,” he muttered, staring off into nothing. He could feel Tony’s eyes on him.  


“Want to talk about it?”  


Peter paused at that. Did he? He had talked about it before, with uncle Ben and aunt May and that therapist and some pediatrician. None of it had really helped. But Mr. Stark was…. different. Maybe he’d understand better than any of them could have.  


“I’m so angry,” he started. “Whenever I think about him I get so mad. What he did to me… It hurt, Mr. Stark. Has pain ever made you this angry?” Peter turned and saw Tony staring at him with an unreadable face. The only indication that he was listening, Peter noticed, was the redness in his eyes and the tears starting to build. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it makes me a bad person.”  


“You’re not a bad person,” Tony said, his voice cracking despite his clear efforts to remain calm.  


“But listen, Mr. Stark. After I got bit by that spider, once I realized how strong I was,” Peter stopped, choking on his own words. His eyes stung, and he had to look away. “Sometimes I think about hurting him. Sometimes I want to find him and make him feel the way I feel. I hurt so much, and he… He just…” Peter choked out a sob pitifully and covered his mouth. He didn’t want to breathe or move a muscle. More than that, he didn’t want to look into Tony’s eyes and see disappointment. He had entrusted Peter with a suit and a responsibility to keep the city safe, and here he was wishing to harm someone. Some hero he was.  


“Peter.” Tony waited and waited until finally Peter looked over at him. “You are not a bad person. It’s normal to think like that after what you went through. I get it, really. I know how it feels to want to smash someone’s head in,” he said, giving a short scoff.  


“I wanted to hurt that girl tonight. Judy.” Saying her name felt like acid coming up his throat. “All I could see in her was Skip, and I almost lost it. I wanted to throw her out the window. But then I kept thinking of the little boy. I kept thinking about what I had needed back then.” He looked at Tony and sadly shook his head. “I wasn’t angry back then. I was scared. I was terrified. I think Andy was, too. The last thing he needed was to see Spider-Man launch his babysitter out his window.” They both cracked half a smile at that.  


“That’s why you’re not a bad person, kid. Come here,” Tony gestured, and Peter moved closer to him and was pulled into an embrace. He rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. The anger started to fade.  


“You saved that boy tonight,” Tony continued. “Even when you were going through your own shit, and even when you maybe wanted to commit a little murder,” Peter giggled softly into the fabric of Tony’s shirt, “you didn’t. You put all that aside and helped the kid, because you knew that was the right thing to do. I’m proud of you.”  


Peter sucked in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. He wanted to believe it. And really, some part of him did believe it. He wasn’t a bad person. In ten years’ time, if Andy was this angry with Judy, Peter knew that’d be okay. He knew it was a normal response. Being Spider-Man didn’t make anything different.  


“You gonna be alright?” Tony rubbed circles on Peter’s back, soothing him and dissipating the last of his lingering anger.  


“Yeah, Mr. Stark, I’m alright.” Peter buried his face in Tony’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to have someone who understood. Sure, he had people to talk to, and they listened mostly non-judgmentally. But he felt like Tony got it. He understood the anger like no one else could. He knew what it was like to hold so much power and have to restrain yourself from letting it go, from abusing it. Peter had finally found someone who wouldn’t think he was a monster for feelings he couldn’t control. Who maybe even looked proudly upon him for working with this anger that he had held onto for so long. Peter felt like he could finally breathe.  


“Thank you, Mr. Stark.”  


“No problem, kid.”


End file.
